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kayzamo Apr 26
A flow, a pen, an ink stained palm.
A life, a story, all gone wrong.
A spark of hope in the night, maybe?
No, your hope is grammatically incorrect.

"This is where your sentence could have ended
but it didn't," see?
Nonetheless, it wants so desperately to end.
An incomplete thought: a fragment -
A fragmented existence with an expired due date.

Can you pick up the forlorn pieces?
Use your calloused fingers to avoid getting cut.
You continued the sentence,
But you used the semicolon wrong.
Daniel Cuzzo Apr 24
Grammarly is usually the editor
I never have for fiction.
As long as I don't get fancy,
I can work with the AI in essays.

For poetry, it's mom's backseat driving.
Every end of a line is driving off a cliff,
unusual capitalizations questioned,
diction UNDER FIRE.

"Even well-read people don't understand,
so you should choose a more familiar word."
Well, Grammarly, this one is self-explanatory,
and IF they pick up a dictionary: it's loaded.

I've long since passed the college days
playing with Microsoft Word thesaurus.
Microsoft Word says I didn't pay: but I did.
Too tired to take it up to good-old Bill Gates.

AS SOON as Microsoft became a subscription
I WAS WARNED by customer support: not worth it.
They said, "try Grammarly Plus," so here I am:
dealing with my mom's backseat driving.

In the end, I'm still subscribing.
Now, I HAVE no formatting tools.
I have NO IDEA where they save my files.
Yet, I find this transaction amusing.

Like mom can be annoying, helpful, and cute,
I wake at 2 a.m., and Grammarly's AI is there.
I don't have to wait a week for feedback
and I'm getting better with "the human touch."

Now, I'm pretentious like that unfamiliar word,
but maybe there's a reason for that too.
Writing has been Very solitary & Very public:
each poet must find balance in the enigmatic.

Other writers scoff at the separation:
poets are people who laugh at grammar.
This is correct but also incomplete:
we laugh at rules working "all the time."

Yes, I make MANY unintentional mistakes,
(which is why I have my mom & Grammarly)
but we all love the written word uniquely
and cannot help but express it in SOME way.

It's a sign of my immaturity, perhaps.
When I finish writing poetry: I still rhyme.
I handed in an essay Freshman year that did:
pretty sure the TA gave me an A-.

But even in my Senior year, a clear opinion
accumulated across my studies in New York.
Each Professor proclaimed the ability
to tell when a Poet wrote prose.

This was NOT ALWAYS an insult:
it was always, partially, praise.
After ALL, professors pick the books
& there are fewer ***** looks at textbooks.

Here's a bolder claim: THINK of the possibilities!
I can tell if a Poet wrote Legalese.
Legally binding on several different levels,
moving, symbolic, AND aesthetically pleasing!

I had a dream to be like Homer.
I realized the market didn't want that.
Here's to 2021 with no word-program
and a 3 a.m. artificial editor that's like my mom.
I haven't been posting here lately, but this poem seemed appropriate for other poets.  Most recently, you can find me if you search Dan J Cuzzo on Medium.
SiouxF Mar 29
In this age of technology
And auto spell checker,
Is it too much to ask for
In this HePo commune?
There really is no excuse I’m sure,
To come a cropper
With your and you’re.
Possession or identity?
Am I alone
In my frustrating annoyance
At this growing misdemeanour?
So much so I move on
Without even a Like,
For there’s nothing to see,
That makes any sense.
Are you guilty?
A grammar snob too?
Or is it.... just me?
Math does not enjoy English grammar, like paragraphs and complete sentences.
My life is a string of periods drawn out in a line __
A garland of punctuated pearls only worthy divers can find. . . .
Haters treated it like a dump of dashes --
Hurled their "quotations"
Shoved me into (parentheses)
And struck at me with oblique slashes /
Then “lovingly” draped it all on my frail torso
Like Miss Universe sashes
But as a bold series of commas,
I learned to hum between rhythm and rhyme
With a necklace of exclamation points around the throat of my heart and mind! ♥
A dangling pair of ellipsis earrings... Playful as a wind chime
A wristband of semicolons;
Clutching my watch’s face
As my face watches time
Haters tried so hard to dictate my life’s story
But those words are Allah’s composition throughout eternity
I embrace His decree
And I name the punctuations mine!
Juno Jan 3
I like to think
all these years of schooling and essays and grammar
existed so i could one day adequately describe my Love for you.
Constructing English grammar- a hubby I would say.
Such a thing I do well.
But when it comes to a stage.
I find somethings confusing.

English spelling.... What a task!
With my writings:
Thou, I do try my best
To capture imagery with powerful words.
And to clinch my spellings along to its best.
I do wonder "How?"

Getting it right,... is it "son" or "sun,"  "tier" or "tear."
I often beat my senses on.
To figure which most suitable.

When it comes to writing "4."
Should I write "for" or "four"or "fore."
And spelling "handkerchief" correctly
Is so worrisome to try.

In words like "fiest" and "height."
Should I use "ei" or" ie"
Obviously,  the rules are worth learning.
Since they're levelled up on standards .

There are also some silent letters.
For example; "p" in "psychology."
And" k" in" know."
As "come" ends with a "e."

How often do you notice the "y" in "day?"
Why not written as "dai?"
What of the spelling" knowledge"
Why not save us the stress and writes "nolege?"
What the stress!

Also,  there are word formations.
The noun from "wise."
Is the word "wisdom."
The verb from the word "special."
Is the word "specialize."

How do I explain to my children?
The singular and plural forms of  VERBS
As "writes" states the singular form
And "write" the plural form.
Why not in the reverse just like the noun forms.?

If that should be the case.
I need to learn more on the appropriate use of :
"Write" to "rite" to "right"
Wahala for who no know English Grammar.
Problems with constructing English grammar sometimes are  unavoidable,  and thus, the rules needs to be mastered.
Anais Vionet Dec 2020
I wear my heart on paper
Ink fills my veins like blood
reviews cut like a razor
but I’m addicted to the pen.

I pump words with every heartbeat
I hoard paragraphs in my room
I take interjections like a ******
I wear verbs like a parfum.

I’m feeling the contractions
as I erase awkward phrases
I write sad poems that feel like skin.
and fill sheets of diary pages

I blush at lurid pronouns
that I conjure then,
I consider putting word-play off
but I’m sentenced to the pen
*Inspired by Michael R. Burch's poem: At the Natchez Trace
writing can be a torture almost as bad as not writing
Maria Etre Dec 2020
For us,  
we get the hand* of it
we get the hang* of others
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